Lena Wilson

Seance meanders for most of its running time, wavering between tones and styles. It’s both self-aware and overly serious. It tries to be a murder mystery, a slasher, a coming-of-age tale and a haunted house flick all at once.

The premise is disingenuous at best and, in a moment where scores of citizens are calling for widespread police reform, fearmongering at worst. Like Jigsaw offering one of his facile riddles, this film is not as clever as it thinks it is.

The premise is simple, but this twist-filled script by LeBlanc gives Laurent ample opportunity to shine. Because of its limited setting, the film hangs on Laurent’s acting ability, and she gamely vaults between elation, terror and determination.

For all the empathy it expects of its viewers — every character cries onscreen at least once — the film is troublingly removed from human reality.

Sims-Fewer and Mancinelli have given their subject matter the focus it deserves, distinguishing themselves as thoughtful, artistic and uncompromising in their shared vision. This female-centered story manages to be gutsy while resisting exploitation — a welcome and nuanced addition to a genre often hobbled by didacticism.

In the overstuffed indie coming-of-age subgenre, Sophie Jones makes an unassuming, honest contribution. Which is exactly what it needed to do to stand out among the endless pomp and quirk.

All in all, CRSHD is an ambitious film made with impressively few resources. Despite its writing pitfalls and shaggy aesthetic, this first feature shows off Cohn’s vision, wit, and resourcefulness.

The Invisible Man is inarguably well done, and this is one of Elisabeth Moss’s best performances, but this is the kind of subject matter you can’t short-shrift. This is life-altering, traumatizing stuff, but in privileging horror shocks over emotional reality, this film unmasks itself. It’s not as interested in abuse victims as it is cheap thrills.

Sacca’s script is an exercise in poor plotting.

This is the cinematic equivalent of eating a macaron, a bourgeois treat best enjoyed for its prettiness rather than its substance. But much like a good macaron, a well-done period romance – interesting, well-paced, relatively pro-woman – is a deceptively hard thing to make. This is one exquisite petit four.

The problem is not that Cats makes no sense . . . nor that the performances are mediocre (most of them are quite good). The murder weapon is the galling CGI intended to cover the actors in head-to-toe feline fur. Instead, the animation detracts from the film’s capable performers and inventive surroundings, drawing the eye reluctantly in like the sight of a person vomiting in the middle of an amusement park. It makes for a slow death, so overwhelmingly grotesque that it ceases to be interesting at all.

Knives and Skin presents an unsettling mix of girlishness, macabre, sweetness, and despondency best encapsulated in a nail polish color sported by one of the characters: Rotting Corpse. Its humans are alien, its script is bizarre, its visuals are gauche. But this so-wrong-it’s-right feminine dirge puts the “fun” in “funereal.”

Much like “It: Chapter Two,” Doctor Sleep is an odd generic blend. Part horror, part fantasy, part “The Shining” Oscars tribute, it engenders confusion more often than delight.

Before You Know It packs a lot of character development into 98 minutes. By the film’s end, tears are shed (perhaps including yours, the audience member’s), jealousies uncorked, and secrets aired – but while each player has their disparate arc, they defy contrivance.

Either this movie was made due to one of the most humongous creative blind spots in all of filmmaking, or it was made because in this, the year 2019, there are still people who believe that eroticized, lightened-up rape scenes are not only permissable – they are empowering.

A noir-ish melodrama so oversaturated with dourness that it borders on parody.

Equal parts choppy and charming, “See You Yesterday” has trouble balancing quirk and melodrama.

Despite its flaws, it goes down easy and guiltlessly, like cheap champagne.

A staggering accomplishment in its storytelling, visuals, and performance.

Save for an overdependence on neon lighting, a general misunderstanding of how entertainment journalism works, and perhaps more alcohol consumption than is responsible for a film sure to be watched by teen girls and young women, Someone Great is a heartfelt and hilarious first feature with ample female talent.

With a popular subject, and some downright corny visual devices, The Inventor doesn’t knock it out of the park as neatly as some of Gibney’s other works. Still, it’s a worthwhile and damn entertaining addition to the developing Elizabeth Holmes canon that makes up for its flaws with undeniable watchability.

These characters are undoubtedly supposed to be parodies of themselves, but their collective unrepentant narcissism broods more resentment than laughter. By the end of the feature, it’s hard not to cringe every time somebody talks.

If the performances were as wooden as the plot, “Imaginary Order” would be unwatchable ... Instead, McLendon-Covey’s lead turn and some savvy supporting performances (most notably Kate Alberts as her daughter) keep things compelling for the film’s overstretched 100-minute run time.

Song of Back and Neck is worth a watch—even if you’ll scratch your head more often than you’ll laugh.

When all’s said and done, Wobble Palace is trying so hard you can’t help but like it.

As surely as a hiker extending her arms in the middle of an undulating lava field, Iceland has arrived, with a startling movie that’s every bit as idiosyncratic, homely, and dynamic as its country of origin.

Unfortunately, while Set It Up sets up instances of subversion, it ultimately topples into a predictable mess of romantic noxiousness.

With capable performances and a smart, character-focused script, this film balances its formal conventions with narrative nerve, ultimately making for a satisfying – if not show-stopping – watch.

You might start this film expecting a riotous night with some of the most underrated women in comedy, but you’ll soon find yourself invested in a mesmerizing story of partnership and personal growth.

Maybe if the film had dwelled on its more off-color scenes instead of falling back on typical comedy fodder, it would be truly magnetic. Unfortunately, it’s more like a sloppy friend who, despite starting the night off full of joie de vivre, you now have to help stumble home.

It’s beautiful, if not brilliant, and (aside from a final act that drags on way too long) fun to watch. In the alternate universe where I don’t care about misogyny and I decided to watch this movie on mute, it’s probably one of the best things I’ve seen all year.

While Our House occasionally loses sight of itself and could stand to take more risks, it offers a wholly original perspective on female friendship bolstered by precocious directorial acumen and a self-assured visuals.

This is one of the most thoughtful films about the female experience to debut in recent years, and should be mandatory viewing for anyone eager to engage with confidently-made, skillful art cinema.

Though the film attempts to introduce a future laden with fascinating social implications, it maddeningly ignores them in favor of an overwrought, plodding, and inherently sexist romance.

The cinematic equivalent of a bath bomb, this fizzy feature is sure to delight — at least until the charm fades. So unfurl your towel, dust off your bathing suit, and soak up that warmth.

First Match is a culturally significant, capably-crafted film, but it leans on safe familiarities when it should seek risky rewards.

It’s a well-made, gutsy film. So, if you can withstand the whole soul-crushing feature, you’ll probably be glad you stuck it out. If “glad” is an emotion you can still feel afterward.

Neither romantic nor comedic, When We First Met is almost too vapid to be aggravating. After watching it, you might be tempted to hunt down a time-traveling photo booth of your own so that you can undo your mistake. Luckily, this movie is so shallow you probably won’t even remember it after you wake up tomorrow

As a film, Saturday Church could so much more, and its disheartening shyness keeps it from achieving greatness. A few choir boys short of a hallelujah, Saturday Church feels more like a subdued sermon.

Simmons is naturally charming, but that only goes so far in a film strung together by half-baked characters and a gimmick.

The Tribes of Palos Verdes privileges melodrama over nuance, pitting skilled actors against a humdrum script and sketchy roles. It doesn’t offer anything new, and bungles any mildly interesting plot points.